


A Tale of Drunkards: When Tony Stark is Drunk and Loki Happened

by orphan_account



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, OMG WHAT IS THIS I DUNNO I DON'T EVEN KNOW, Tony is the biggest man-whore alive, my mind is full of fucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title speaks it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tale of Drunkards: When Tony Stark is Drunk and Loki Happened

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently an attempt to write smut. I CANT WRITE SMUT EHRMERGERD. I will continue this cracky series of drabbles BUT DON’T EXPECT SMTH LIKE PLOT.
> 
> This is a gift for frozenfoxfire because earlier she mentioned that she was having bad mood. I dunno if this will cheer her up. /itriedbadge.jpg
> 
> Oh and hi I write again. Interrealm Affair ch4 is done and under my beta's hands to whip the grammar errors and such out of it atm.

Two years and a half after Loki’s attempt to level the downtown, life had passed as normally as Tony Stark, age 47, could have. Sure, life had been shit with villains running amok—but _hey_ , they had the Avengers. Surely superhero duties wouldn’t be as shitty as before. Right? Right.

That was, at least, until Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, found himself humping merrily into Loki’s sweet little hole.

It all started the night before, rather a perfect Sunday night, if you could say. No supervillains; Dr. Doom was signing on some creepy shit vacation, Magneto was wreaking havoc somewhere, and Doc Oc was not trying to scare off little kids; he had his sweet moment in life until all hell broke loose (tomorrow he would have board meeting; sucks) and he didn’t really feel like to hold a wrench to tinkle some trinkets and he had a brand new expensive-as-shit bottle of scotch awaiting for him. There was no gala, no party, no press conference, nothing. All was well. Good times. Sweet Lord have mercy.

Then, _it_ happened.

After hogging down of what seemingly his fifth shot, his mind went blurry, and he was pretty damn sure he saw a blur of green and gold and black all around him—mixing with a nice scent of something spicy, musk, and sweat. He remembered pearly toothy grin and beautiful pair of green eyes directing towards him as he lapped into narrow but well toned chest and hard-as-a-rock pair of nubs.

His consciousness swam about a moment or two, before his mind cleared a bit, and he found himself topping the very God of Mischief, his own prick trapped inside the tight hole between the trickster’s ass cheeks. Oddly, he didn’t mind—or maybe that was alcohol speaking. Loki was so wanton and so _damn_ filthy, spouting words every now and then between his very incoherent moans. We were all know that Tony Stark thinks with his dick first, so _yeah_.

The morning after, the Avengers Tower’s residents were awaken by a loud, loud (unmanly) shrill, coming from the very top floor of the tower.


End file.
